


Sitting patient in the shadow (till the blessed life shall come)

by ArcReactorsandDragons



Series: When the light falls dying at your footsteps, what is left but to surrender [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, NO INCEST AT ALL MF, No Incest, Sibling Bonding, Unreliable Narrator, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, like the littlest bit i just wanna be thorough, no beta we die like ben, uhh slight and i mean SLIGHT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:32:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25843624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcReactorsandDragons/pseuds/ArcReactorsandDragons
Summary: Instead of drifting apart when they leave, talking to each other less and less until they pretend the only thing that ties them is a childhood tattoo and not a childhood of individual and collective trauma from their family.Instead, Vanya acts as a tie to the house, a warm human presence - Grace and Pogo are only so good. One being an android, another a genetically modified ape. (Luther follows to much is Reginald's footsteps to be called a warm presence).Vanya stays.(Is it fair to say that she never left if she was never truly there to begin with. She is self aware enough to recognise that she isn’t wanted.(It’s whispered with every step she takes. Every word said to her by Father, a thinly veiled insult telling her she’s useless, every slap and black eye that she doesn’t need to cover up because no one will ever see.)
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves & Siblings
Series: When the light falls dying at your footsteps, what is left but to surrender [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884556
Comments: 45
Kudos: 387
Collections: The umbrella academy





	1. be worthy, love (and love shall come)

**Author's Note:**

> Edit to say I am absolutely blown away with the response this has gotten 🥺🥺 y'all are the nicest people ever, thank you so much for the comments y'all have left, they rly do help my writing process

Vanya stays. (Number Seven stays).

In another universe, (timeline, alternate reality,  _ whatever) _ , she moves out. Her room at the Academy stays the same, she never decorated, she never made it  _ hers.  _ She is no one but a passerby, it’s a rest stop on the way to  _ anywhere else.  _

Im another Universe, Vanya walks up to Reginald Hargreeve’s office, and knocks. She doesn’t actually wait for an answer, but slides open the door and steps in. (She learnt pretty early on that if left to Father to decide, he wouldn’t seie them). At eighteen, almost nineteen, she makes her one and only defiant act to him, the one thing that suggested maybe she has a backbone. 

_ Diego is impressed. At dinner later that night, Vanya doesn’t show up, (but she’s always first?) _

_ And no one notices and still no one notices. It’s a quick month that goes by and no one notices, until Klaus looks up and bluntly says, “Hey? Has anyone seen Vanya recently?”, To which Reginald replies that Number Seven has moved out of Umbrella Academy for reasons he will not disclose. _

_ (He phrases it in a way that makes it seem as if he is in control of the situation, as if it wasn’t on Vanya’s terms). _

In reality it actually goes like this:

Timid little Vanya Hargreeves, marches up to the desk, hands behind her back. Respectful. Wearing her own clothes. Disrespectful. When Reginald does not look up from scribbling in his notebooks, she speaks, neutral but commanding. “I’m moving out.” 

She gives him no say in the matter, and he actually looks up, monocle glinting.

“Now then, Vanya, don’t you think it is too much-”, his voice is so… it’s commanding, so, so  _ cold _ makes her almost rethink her decision. But the face he makes when she cuts him off is better than anything she has ever experienced.

“I’m sorry, I should have phrased that better. I have already moved out. I have given my new address to Mom and Pogo.” Reginald opens his mouth once more but Vanya drives on, “I know Luther has already said this, I am a liability in this household. Someone could find me and use you against this family. It will be good to get rid of any superfluous sentimentality”.

He can never refuse a logical argument, she can tell, his calculating gaze sliding over her small stature, (she’s wearing a hoodie that once belonged to Ben, a small half finished notebook from Five that is in her pocket), “Very well, Vanya. Your first month’s rent shall be paid, until you find yourself a job. I shall have your prescription copied over to your nearest pharmacy”.

She doesn’t tell him she has had a job already, stacking shelves in a local grocery stall. She also doesn’t refuse the money. She also knows to some it may sound caring. A concerning elusive billionaire caring after his children. She knows better.

“Thank you, Father”.

“You are dismissed”, his pen is already back on paper when she turns around, gathers the last of her things, and leaves. 

(It was if she was never there at all).

In this world, something else happens. Five and Ben are still)  dead , missing and dead, respectfully. Here, however, the person that encourages her to have a backbone is missing, and her silent supporter is dead. There was no one else to give her that push, so she stays. 

Number Seven stays. 

And, eventually, everyone else leaves. Almost everyone, actually. 

Allison is first. A main part in the next teenage rom-com. (The family congratulate her and pretend they don’t know she rumoured her way in).

She leaves the next day to go to LA, room left as is. “It’s okay”, she says with a dismissive shrug, “I can buy more”.

Diego is next. He leaves with a fistbump to Klaus laying on one of the sofa, and a parting flipped finger at Luther. He says a general goodbye, and she knows it doesn’t actually cover her. He’s gone to join the Police Academy, on the path to become a Detective. He should be leaving in a week but Diego in a fight (read: disobeyed direct orders on a mission, ad got a punishment), which means subsequently that Luther starts lecturing (read:  _ fighting _ ) with him too, so he leaves the next day with a duffle bag full of clothes and the aforementioned farewell.

(“I see you haven't left the nest yet,” Diego taunts, in the Detective Academy now, “Still doing what daddy dearest says”.

“You do the same thing as me,” Luther says, eyes narrowed, gearing up for the fight, “Just more… legally”.

“And what does that say about you then? Huh?”)

You could say Klaus is next, but then Klaus never really left either, but he doesn’t stay. 

Since Klaus was fifteen and learnt that weed helped stifle the ghosts as much as Ben’s presence did, (It doesn’t help that Ben’s now doing the haunting), it was only a matter of time before he spiralled, eyes red rimmed and hands constantly shaking, sleeping on a different sofa every night, sometimes friends, sometimes at random parties, the back of an ambulance. Rehab. Klaus started slipping out of bed in the middle of the night and not coming back for week(s). His bed is always available at the Academy, washed daily by Grace, welcomed with dinner the comforting smile Vanya gives because she knows that he only comes back when either 1) He’s too high to remember the terrors the night brings here. 2) The drugs aren’t enough to suppress the screaming, and crashing in familiar surroundings can’t do anything worse. 

Luther never leaves. Always there, at dinner, training constantly, classes until even Reginald recognises that he’s too old for high school algebra, and learning at University level doesn’t do anything to help the Missions. 

Vanya thinks that Luther stays because he doesn’t know  _ how  _ to leave, how to get from underneath Father’s thumb. Too scared of the repercussions.

And Vanya? Vanya stays.

(Is it fair to say that she never left if she was never truly there to begin with. She is self aware enough to recognise that she isn’t wanted. 

(It’s whispered with every step she takes. Every word said to her by Father, a thinly veiled insult telling her she’s  _ useless,  _ every slap and black eye that she doesn’t need to cover up because no one will ever see.)

There’s no pictures of her, no  _ evidence _ that she exists bar an old violin and a bare bedroom. 

(Does it really count as self-awareness if it's the only thing she’s ever been told).

And through the years, the dynamics of the family  _ change _ , in a way no one could have foreseen.

In another world, Vanya is closest with Five, sarcastic, cocky Number Five who didn’t even get a name. Who encouraged her to be more bold, invited her to come with them on their midnight outings to the nearest cafe or McDonalds. She refuses, if only because she knows she isn’t wanted. Ben sends her a sorry smile and leaves a chocolate muffin on her desk the next morning. Five might have done so too if he was more attune to emotional ways of showing fondness. (Five is a solid presence when she has a breakdown, when the pills make her so numb she doesn’t if she’ll ever feel anything again. When she seems trapped out at sea with the water muffling her ears and she can only hear Five’s breathing to anchor her.)

And Ben, who she read books with in the library, who she lulled to sleep with her violin when The Terror became too bad after a mission or the nightmares became too much and she was all that was there. 

Klaus would be there too, with Ben, a loose grin and funny remarks that seem less funny as time wears on. (Until Ben dies and he pulls away from everyone, and so does Vanya, both too caught up in greif to see anyone else. Klaus at least, draws attention from the others when he breaks down).

(She isn’t stupid enough to not realise that she isn’t thier first choice of company, Five will regularly only come her her first if he needs someone to talk and vent too, needs someone to listen and be  _ silent _ ).

The other three well....

Number One, Number Two, Number Three. Luther, Diego, Allison. 

For all the ways that Luther and Diego fight, they really do stick together most, both loudly following Father whenever. 

Allison is a bright presence that makes other people feel unworthy to be there with her, (apart from Luther, which frankly Vanya thinks is rather disgusting, but doesn’t comment).

In this Universe, it’s almost exactly the same. 

Until something different happens. Vanya stays. 

Instead of drifting apart when they leave, talking to each other less and less until they pretend the only thing that ties them is a childhood tattoo and not a childhood of individual and collective trauma from their family.

Instead, Vanya acts as a tie to the house, a warm  _ human  _ presence - Grace and Pogo are only so good. One being an android, another a genetically modified ape. And Luther… was actually as shit at emotions as everyone else in the family it seemed. 

But the biggest thing is that a tentative relationship grows between Luther and Vanya. And NO, not in the way you are thinking. 

But as more than distant siblings who only interact because they have the same friend of friends and are the only person to talk to.

_ Friends. _

* * *

“Hey, Vanya?” Luther’s voice seems nervous, in a way that she’s never really heard before, and certainly not at her. 

Vanya looks up from the book she’s reading- Jane Eyre, who is currently sleeping in the peat, struggling to get by, blinking in confusion at the blond in the doorway, “What do you need help with?” Is the automatic reply. It’s coming to the end of the first month with only the two of the remaining children in the house, and the empty house had them talking less than they had before.

Luther winces, edging in further with the doorway, though he can’t deny the accusation- it’s not really an accusation, there is no biting edge to her voice, no resentment in her eyes, just accepting shadowed by her long bangs, “Do you have notes from yesterday’s Math lesson? I wrote it so quickly I can’t really read my own writing”, he ducks his head, embarrassed. 

But Vanya only nods, “I’ll get it for you now”, and she slips out of the room, running lightly to fetch her notes- a neat near cursive in a scribble lined notebook. She runs back downstairs, only pausing slightly to glance at the other doors, all closed, bed cold and empty.

She rushes back down, handing it over, hesitating to sit back down with her book, “You could do the homework in here if you like, I can help you if you get stuck”.

Luther can’t even take the words as offensive, not like he could at Five’s who would offer with a condescending note to his voice as he explained the principle of Newton’s Three Laws. There’s only honesty, she knows she is slightly better at math than him, that she’s probably already done the homework. “I can't,” he says.

Vanya’s face falls slightly, not really enough to be  _ really  _ noticeable, but her words show more, “Oh! Of course, I should have expected that, I’m sorry I asked, besides, I have to practice my violin now, I don’t know why I offered”.

“No, no it's okay”, Luther hastily backpacks, wondering when his little sister, (in the adjective sense of the word, she  _ is  _ tiny, once the tallest for a couple months, but staying only 5’1 while the others became so much taller), was so…  _ pathetic _ , and he doesn’t really mean it badly but, did he not pay attention enough? When did she start apologising so much, “I’ve got training now, but tomorrow? Saturday, that is, I’d uh, appreciate your help”.

And Vanya lights up- someone needs her help. No, it’s much more simpler than that, someone wants to willingly spend time with her.

When Luther goes down to training then, the sound of a violin fills the air. She practices in the hall- as willed by her father- and she can’t exactly  _ not  _ play when she told Luther that’s what she was doing.  The sounds of Tchaikovsky haunt the house, a soulful tune that leaves Luther strangely comforted as he lifts his weights, forgoing his usual music. It’s a small act, a small step to becoming friends, that leaves the house just a touch lighter. 

It continues like that for a while, when Klaus and Diego aren’t visiting- they visit more than Allison, who calls them once a week to make sure Luther is alive before disappearing, never really visiting. 

(“It’s too far to fly just to see yo- the Academy”, Allison would say, voice light, though Vanya knew the real reason, once she left this place, why come back? You don’t come back to the place you  _ escape  _ from.)

It’s a routine, where they will spend the hour break after class to go through, to do the work, then go to their respective training- strength and Violin.  And when Reginald goes away, a conference, an experiment, a lecture, and the training lightens up and they don’t do as much classwork, when they don’t  _ need  _ to do their training…

Vanya is sat cross legged on her bed, stiff and hunched over, reading through the comforting pages of Little Women (a family that tries their hardest to connect to each other, despite their faults,  _ through  _ their faults, something she desperately wishes for), and there's a soft knock on her door followed by, 

“I’m going to train for a bit”, and he sounds nervous, before she hears the telltale steps of him walking down the stairs to the training room.

Vanya is confused for a moment, never has he gone out of his way to tell her that he is training- oh. 

She hopes she understands right when she picks up her violin, and treads out into the hallway, following the route to the hallway. She doesn’t bring a music stand, or even music, instead deciding to pick a piece she knows off heart- A Phantom Of the Opera Medley that she just adores. 

Picking up the polished violin, and placing it under her chin, she begins playing, and she only knows she is right when she slaps of a punching bag being hit followed in due time, and she can’t but help smile slightly, warmed by the small gesture- Luther enjoys her music, wanted to hear it when he trains.  It's something that he could have easily been bypassed, ignored in favour of his usual records, or ipod. 

The music swells in the Music of the Night section, and so does her lungs, happiness making her chest rise and her eyes shut, so caught up in the music she doesn't realise this is the best she’s ever played (she also doesn't remember that she's forgot to take her medication this morning). 

In short, she thinks finally, maybe she could have an actual friend in the Academy,  _ Number One _ , no less.  Opposite ends on command and power, they never interacted more than they had to. 

(When Father says jump, Luther leaps.  When Father says you should ignore Vanya, she's not like you, she will distract you all with her  _ ordinary  _ ways, Luther dives head first into that instruction.  She wonders what changed, whether it's Father's word wearing off, or the realisation that even with it The Umbrella Academy drifted apart in favour for the ordinary life.)

Things changed with Pogo too, or their father, but Vanya doubted it was of his ruling that at breakfast one morning, when Reginald was at a scientific lecture at Oxford, England, he cleared his throat, staring at the two remaining occupants of the house.

“Masters Luther and Vanya, we have decided at your age it is time for a room upgrade, you may move into the respective rooms we have chosen. You can forgo your usual classes for moving things into your new rooms”. 

Vanya and Luther exchanged a glance. A new room? That was… something, never one to give outlandish gifts such as clothes other than a uniform, toys, or adventures outside of the Academy, a new room- in the  _ guest  _ bedrooms no less. This was…  _ wow.  _

“No classes at all today?” Vanya asked Pogo, something akin to excitement bubbling up inside, smiling brightly when Pogo replied no, walking away to do… whatever it was Pogo did when not helping them. 

“Thank you!” Vanya called out to his turned back.

“Yeah, thank you!” Luther tagged on, shovelling oatmeal into his mouth, “Isn’t this great! Dad’s great for doing this!”

Vanya smiled tightly back, wondering if Luther knew that Father would ever give this, and was probably the work of Pogo- and Grace combined, “Yeah! Great!” As much as she was excited for this, she wondered if Reginald would be expecting something in return, something much more serious than their lifelong devotion to him and never questioning loyalty. 

  
  


Luther moves his things out in a couple of hours, transferring old records carefully, and clothes in huge bundles. Vanya does it in less than an hour and Luther can’t help but wonder why she stays. 

He never realised before how little  _ stuff  _ she owns. The little things, like how Allisons bedroom is filled with personality, old scarfs and ha;f empty bottles of perfume strewn around with candles. There’s posters of the latest boy bands and her favourite movie and pictures of the two of them and the group and it’s so  _ Allison  _ that he sometimes avoids it for days and others sits on her bed just staring (Allison was his best friend, nothing more, nothing less, and he hates how much it aches when she says once again that she’s not coming back to visit). Or like Klaus, where it seems he displays his life in his room, muddled up rubix cube, stickers half peeling where he tried to solve it by cheating, clothes he’s stolen from Allison and bits and pieces he’s stolen and bought from One Dollar Stores that he couldn’t resist. 

Vanya’s is bare. A grey cube, no better than a prison cell. A music stand, her violin case and her limited wardrobe, a handful of books she keeps from the library (and Ben), an old soft hoodie from Klaus. 

She moves over to the new bedroom then escapes down the fire escape, and he doesn’t see her for the rest of the day. 

Luther spends the rest of the day thinking.  He was angry at first that she was staying. He just couldn’t understand  _ why _ , she was ordinary, useless, she had no place in the house in the first place, why stay now, when she could escape? Not that… not that there was anything to escape from.  He avoided her, her small figure and pale skin made her presence seem more like a haunting, like she was nothing but a ghost floating through the house. 

(Without anyone else in the house she seems even smaller, sinking into loneliness- or maybe she was already so lonely).

But then, Luther did need her help, and she was… there. And he realised that he was lonely too.  The violin he had once hated, screeching and so, so sad, (couldn’t she ever play someone more happy?)(Was there anything happy to play about?), that he had shouted at her too many times before- 

_ “Shut UP, Vanya, no one wants to hear that!” Childish shouting, genuine rage, “You’re distracting our training!” _

Now he can’t help but understand what she sees in the instrument, the melodies soft to the ear and it resonates now within him.  He steps into her room, sheets pulled tightly in a way even he can’t replicate. There’s no pictures on the walls, no  _ anything.  _ It makes him choke up, remembering how they isolated her, never interacting, unless… unless they needed her. 

(He remembers Five ranting about theories, about how he is  _ so  _ sure he is ready for time travel, remembers her comforting Ben when Klaus is too high to talk, when The Horror gets too much, remembers holding Klaus through a particularly hard come down, through the aftermath of Ben (how they all berated her at the funeral, how they  _ blamed her _ ), remembers when Allison needed someone to try a new hairstyle or makeup look on, when she needed someone to talk to about him, did they ever do anything for her? Help her bruises, figuratively and literally, when she helped others?)

So, he lays on his bed, puts on his favourite record as loud as possible, and pretends that it didn’t happen.

* * *

Vanya learns baking next to Grace, and pretends that it’s a real person. 

Learns first-aid patching up Luther, and Diego when he doesn’t want to go to hospital and explain what he’s been doing. 

Learns Russian with Grace and pretends she finds comfort in her home language.

* * *

She doesn’t play the Violin for three weeks after Reginald fractured her hand, finding her reading a book she shouldn’t have been (she reads the book, eyes wide in wonder as the girl falls for the girl, then in fear as Reginald sighs and says he doesn’t want her reading that book again), she brushes it off when Luther asks and doesn’t meet anyone’s eye. 

She plays sooner than she should, and pretends that it doesn’t hurt.

* * *

Reginald increases her dosage, two pills every morning. Everything becomes so hazy, she stumbles down the stairs and almost doesn’t recognise Luther when he catches her. Scrapes her food around her plate for weeks, she doesn’t feel hungry, doesn’t feel  _ anything.  _ She goes outside to feel  _ something _ , in the biting winter wind, collecting stems of lavender she planted so long ago in the greenhouse, sitting underneath Ben’s statue, and doesn’t come in until Luther guides herself inside, fingers frostbitten. 

“It’s fine”, she gasps between puking, long hair getting caught in the toilet water, “This has happened before, I’ll get used to it soon”. 

She can’t even bring herself to feel hate at the pitying glance Luther gives her. 

* * *

Klaus sneaks in one night, when she is lying down on one of the living room sofas, staring at the high ceilings through one extended hand. He’s wearing his usual black clothing, jeans ripped through wear, not fashion, and a too small leather jacket that barely wraps around his skinny chest. 

“Klaus?” She asks, spotting the shadowy figure that could only be him, (it doesn’t escape her notice he only comes back when Reginald is gone).

“Vanya!” He exclaims, spreading his arms out wide, a too big smile on his face. His goatee is finally growing in but there’s matching stubble around his jaw too. His hands are shaking. “What’re you doing in an establishment such as this?”

Vanya just arches an eyebrow, tucking her long bangs behind her ears and just gestures through the doors, “Kitchen?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Klaus still nods yes and follows her down, while Vanya keeps an eye on his feet to make sure he doesn’t trip.

She ushers him into a seat and turns on the lights, ignoring the exaggerated groan Klaus gives at the sudden change in brightness. 

“What is it this time?” She asks gently, making sure that there is no hint of judgement in her voice, going through the motion of making tea- chamomile for herself, ginger and lemon for Klaus- using actual ginger and lemon.

“What on Earth makes you think I’ve taken something, my sweetest, dearest sister o’ mine?” He glances up at her, eyes red rimmed and pupils blown, and he waves the Goodbye Hand off to the side, probably a ghost talking to her. 

She places his mug on the marble table in front of him, loudly, and gives him a sharp stare, ruined by her own tired gaze and sweaty forehead. 

He waves both hands this time, “Fine,  _ fine _ , just a bit of mdma! Nothing too bad”, the  _ this time  _ is left unspoken.

They both make their way back to the living room, and they flop down on the same sofa together shoulder’s just touching, hands clamped around chipped mugs. 

(Klaus stares down at her and like always wonders, has she always been this small? Sitting down she barely comes up to his shoulder, bony fingers that seem so… fragile.)

When she glances up at him, he finally sees through his blurry gaze the black eye she has. Yellow and purple spread across her cheek and brow bone, it’s nothing any of the siblings haven't seen before, but even now it seems wrong. Worse somehow, they’re practically grownups now, yet here Reginald was, hurting them like they’re children.

“What is it this time?” He throws back her words, lifting a warm hand to trace her eye, dropping it down when she flinches away. 

She actually laughs at that, low and short, “Does he ever need a reason? Besides, this is about you. What’s up?” 

Now that makes  _ him  _ laugh, full body, taking a few sips of tea when he starts choking. It’s the deadpan delivery, when  _ everybody  _ knows that he’s always in one mess or another. What’s up? The answer is always of the same sort, “Oh you know, drugs, dicks, defamation of my character, a few ghosts screaming”. 

She nudged his side, falling onto his shoulder comfortably, “C’mon,” she implored, “You can tell me”. 

And like every time Klaus crawls back to the Academy in a haze, he marvels at the fact that he now knows Vanya will be there to keep him standing, or choking on his own tongue, even when he knows he left her to handle the fallout from Ben on her own, taking the blame for some reason. Even when, even if they were closer than she was to some others, they really barely knew each other, nothing more than neighbours in a flat (even normal roommates were closer, he had learned from sitcoms and crashing at friends).

Suddenly he has to know why,  _ why _ she looks after him like she does, (when he knows his other siblings look at him with judgment, with resigned disappointment, Vanya just holds his hand through the worst of the shakes and takes a hand through his hair when he's throwing up). 

So he asks just as much, “Why?” He staring up at the ceiling now, and there's a rolling ball of anxiety in his stomach- he knows it's just part of the comedown but that doesn't make it any less real.

“Why what?” She asks gently, removing the mug from his hands and placing it on the table, slipping a coaster under it, and doing the same to her mug. 

“Why  _ this,”  _ he gestures with his both hands at himself, glad the mug is out of his hands, hoping that she understands.

(She does, she really does.)

In reply she brings out a small prescription bottle, rattling in slightly, “It would be like calling the kettle black,” she says, “I've been taking these since I was four, I couldn't exactly pass judgment just because yours aren't prescribed.” She shrugged, settling more comfortable against his shoulder, effectively trapping his arm against his side, “I take one whenever I need one nowadays, it uh, helps. Besides, you’re my brother, and I love you”. The last part is mumbled against his shoulder, the words hiding away like they're shameful. 

He supposed in this house they are.  Klaus is silent but he holds her tight, hugging her, he can't say it back, he can't say it back. The words are trapped in the back of his throat, wanting to but, he just doesn't have the courage to. 

(He wonders how meek little Vanya manages to, how she manages to defy ol’ Reggie in the littlest ways possible.)

They spend the rest of the night sat side by side, with cooling tea next to them as Klaus talks and talks about anything he can, funny stories and his general life- it makes Vanya laugh slightly, lips twitching up on the side in a way he's never really seen before, it makes him proud- and hopes it's enough to disguise the fact that he's nothing more than a coward.

Klaus puts out an endless stream of chatter, and Vanya listens. 

(Ben is on the opposite sofa, looking at them softly, thinking that this is good for Klaus. And Vanya, and he’s being ignored but this time for a more favourable activity than drugs.)

Until she starts yawning more often than replying and they go up to bed and Vanya leads him to her new room.

The lanky young (young, so young) lets out a low whistle at the size of the bed- and the sight of the en-suite, “Look at you getting all the upgrades now that the rest of them aren't here,” and Vanya looking for any signs of resent, but there's nothing.

She yawns again, stretching out her arms and sitting down on the tightly drawn sheets, pulling up her hair into a messy knot, “Pogo did it,” she admits, “and… the beds too big for me, I can’t sleep properly in it”. 

Klaus can understand why, he's seen her sleeping enough times, (her door being one of the only ones left open when the siblings go to sleep, or… anytime really, (except the obvious times), an open invitation for anyone to come in and talk, he wonders if anybody ever did- he knows they didn't), curled up in the foetal position, or ramrod straight, even in sleep never truly at ease. 

He doesn't answer again; but this time, he opens the sheets and slides in, shedding his leather jacket first, in favour of an oversized t-shirt (he’s pretty sure is… Luthers?) he knows she keeps for him, and pats the covers next to him. 

That night Vanya sleeps more comfortably than she does on her own, ending up wrapping around Klaus, (he's sure it's more the way he exudes heat), and he squeezes his eyes tight and wonders if this is how his childhood  _ was _ , maybe he wouldn't be such a mess. 

The next day -a Sunday, when Pogo gives them the day off like he usually does when Master Hargreeves isn't in the house, and they spend the day talking and laughing and they paint each other's nails. 

Klaus asks what she wants to be when she grows up. 

(Pretends that they’re not too old for such silly questions.)

Vanya pauses and says a superhero, Klaus laughs and says he wants to be a lawyer. 

(Pretends that what they're saying wasn't both real and both equally unattainable.)

(When I was younger, that's all I wanted to be, Klaus says, a normal boring profession.

Vanya says she can't imagine anything boring about him.)

They pretend that their hands aren't shaking, and that Klaus flinches everytime Vanya’s cold fingers touch his.  His black polish ends up shiny and overlapped on his picker cuticles, and hers ends up bright red and on her knuckles, in a way that he knows she’ll have picked off, if her over bitten nails are any indication.  They ignore the faults and pretend in that moment that their past has always been like that morning. 

* * *

The years go by and Klaus doesn't live at the Academy, but he doesn't stay away too much. 

(Vanya is his emergency contact, and more than once she leaves the Academy to pick him up, brush him off and care after him with that lack of judgment and resigned indifference that he sees in Diego’s and Luther’s eyes).

Diego comes back occasionally, trusting Vanya to patch him up when Mom is charging, and it's too suspicious to go to the ER, and soon Diego is looking at her with begrudging respect. Luther and Vanya work in tandem around the Academy, keeping the peace with their father and pretending that everything is alright, Luther going on missions and gets sewn back up and gets back up. 

Until comes the mission where he doesn't.


	2. the night has a thousand eyes (the day but one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther is different, Reginald died how? And who the fuck has come back?

The mission seems normal. Vanya never gets told the details beforehand, but more often than not Luther will tell her afterwards, as he sits resting. 

But Luther comes back unconscious and she's not sure how Reginald got him in the car and Grace pulls him out, her face seems too neutral for the situation (Grace will admit to her that she compartmentalized her feelings for her son. She had a purpose to serve and had to be objective.

Vanya will hesitantly say that maybe next time (she hopes to God there isn't a next time like  _ this _ ) you should let yourself feel. (She will hear those words again  _ afterwards  _ and laugh noiselessly, how did she dare give advice to feel when Vanya has spent her whole life  _ numb) _ ) and takes him to the medical room. 

Pogo doesn't let her in, not this time. 

She opens her mouth to protest ( _ this is my  _ **_brother_ ** _ , I should be allowed in!),  _ then remembers nothing ever good comes with defying orders, and waits outside. 

Waits until she falls asleep and Grace scoops her up and carries her to bed. 

The next day she still isn't allowed to see. 

(It's not until afterwards she understands why. It's not until afterwards she feels so much more guilty that she didn't force herself into the room, maybe something different could have happened.) 

* * *

Luther doesn't leave his room for a month. 

Doesn't let her in,

( _ Go away, Vanya!)  _

_ (It would be better if you and Ben switched places.)  _

_ (You're  _ **_useless_ ** _.) _

Vanya keeps pushing.

She plays the violin in her room, even leans the covers of his favourite songs. 

It's when the sons in the room next to her become so loud she can actually  _ hear  _ them, (the walls are pretty thick, enough that you can't hear every little thing), that's when she has had enough. 

_ She remembers being in that position, in the one or two times that she  _ **_did_ ** _ cry (she learnt really that she never felt enough to cry, but there were times when she felt too much, when the loneliness overwhelmed her)  _

_ (Remembers the times she was invited to their midnight donut runs, but he the time she went to meet them in Luther’s room and found they had already left, remembers when Allison rumoured her to stop playing the violin and didn't lift it until Ben begged her.) _

_ wishing that someone would care enough to come into her room and comfort her.  _

She refused to let that happen to Luther, so that afternoon, she marches to the room next to her and opens the door. 

It's locked. She expected it, to be honest.

(That has never stopped her before.)

“Leave me alone,” Luther’s voice is shaky, desperate. 

All the locks in the house are pretty easy to unlock, Five had taught her once, she replays his instructions in her mind. 

The door swings open. 

“Vanya!” His voice is muffled by his pillows, but it sounds so scandalised it's almost funny, as if they were teenagers and she walked in on him doing something inappropriate. 

She walks in and sits on the side of his bed, it strikes her suddenly that she's never been this bold with her siblings before, “What's the matter?” 

It's as generic as it gets, and she regrets it as they leave her mouth, wincing. Obviously something is  _ very  _ wrong for Luther to not leave his room, even for training- but he laughs. 

It's choked and halted, but it's something. 

(She notes with sadness that his hair is longer, and greasy. She wonders when the last time he took a shower was, what could have been so bad that the boy who once fiddled with his hair and appearance for so long, he could beat Klaus in time taken up in the bathroom.) 

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn't underst-” 

“Don't you dare finish that sentence, Luther Hargreeves,” Vanya bites out, she heard that line enough times in her life, and knows for a fact that whenever it's used it's more to get her to leave than anything to do with  _ understanding _ . 

He finally looks up at her, turning his face away from the snotty pillow. Luther looks… awful, she has never seen him cry before, and it's not a good look on him, streaming nose and glassy eyes, he has stubble and scratch marks on his face.

More than that though, he looks surprised. Surprised that Vanya,  _ little number Seven _ , would dare speak to him like that. 

“What happened?” She reiterates, staring at him, her long hair brushing his face, (Luther wonders when it got so long), “And don’t you dare say that I won't understand, because  _ I will.  _ I'm probably one of the only humans on the planet without powers that will understand”.

* * *

Luther has been genetically modified using Pogo’s blood in an attempt to keep him alive. It works and it's clear that Luther will never properly get over it. 

After all it's not something you can really get over, his new body is… disturbing, to say the least. The first time Vanya saw it, as she forced herself into his room to do  _ something _ , (he hadn't left his room in a month! She had to help, even if she wasn't a superhero). 

(Besides, it seemed that superheroes were only good at the big things, at the world destroying things, the  _ important  _ things. Never the small things, and it was the small things she could do.) 

Thick, toughened skin that seemed too big for his body, like a skin suit placed, muscle that bulged out uncomfortably. She remembered as a child how slowly Luther learned control of his strength, breaking glasses and taking doors off hinges- she wondered if he would have to learn that all over again. 

And, to be frank, it was ugly. There was no way to sugarcoat it, to pretend that he looked as good as he used to. But it was something Vanya could accept pretty easily, she grew up in a house with people who could command people what to do, who could manipulate projectiles, who could talk to the dead, who could teleport and had a portal to tentacled monsters in his stomach. This was just a matter of fact.

Of course for Luther, it was awful, she could tell in the way that he hid under the covers and refused to look at himself in the mirror, even avoiding the bathroom to even see himself at  _ all.  _ And in the way he explicitly told her that he was disgusting and how could anyone even bear to look at the monster he became. 

She tried to help, tried to get him out of his room for a short time, to talk to him. It works for a little while, for a couple weeks before…

Vanya sat down heavily on her bed, sighing and rubbing her hand through her hair, noting that it was much longer than she thought- it was just touching the small of her back. 

Reginald was back today, he had observed her classes and forced her to play for him, to perform the most difficult Violin piece she had learnt, she had messed up twice from her shaking hands; she had forgotten to bring her pill bottle with her, and when she told him she had forgotten something in her room, of course he had refused, (“Maybe if you go without your forgotten item for the day, Number Seven, you will remember it next time. Really, you are far too old to forget things”). Maybe if she had told him it was her pills… but she had taken her morning dose, but she hadn't taken another one all day, where she usually did- especially if Reginald was around. Her finger itches to grab the bottle and take one, but as she reaches for the bottle on her nightstand, she hears a knock on her door. 

She sighs again, hands dropping into her lap, “yes?” If it was Reginald, she didn't want to be seen taking them out of the proposed times- it would seem like a weakness. 

Instead Luther opened the door, dressed in proper clothes for once, looking uncharacteristically withdrawn, head ducking to fit into the room. 

“I'm going to the moon,” he choked out, still holding the door handle, knuckles white, “Dad’s sending me there, next week.” Luther straightened up, face hardening, though his shoulders remained hunched. “It's for an important mission, to watch for threats”. 

He’s trying to sound proud, but… she knows without a doubt that he doesn't want to go, even at ‘Dad’s’ command. 

Which she knows must be a lie. Even if there was a threat for someone to keep track of, surely it would be better to keep the  _ only  _ Hargreeves child who goes on missions to stay at home? 

(She’s sure ‘Dad’ just doesn't want to look at the mistakes he made. Look at the monstrosity of a human he made.) 

She says as such to Luther, if a bit more kindly. 

“No!” Luther snaps, hand tightening over the handle even harder, snapping it off, “It’s important, Dad says so! I have to go.”

Vanya can’t help but flinch at the sound, staring at the handle- she wouldn’t be able to lock her door now. 

“Luther! You don’t have to go! What about the Academy?” She snaps right back, standing up, how dare Luther make her flinch? 

(She almost curls into herself then. How dare someone? When has she ever thought something like that? What is happening to her? Why does she feel the anger flood her, cold and hard like ice, burning her insides.)

“ _ Dad _ , has torn us all apart! Maybe he didn't mean to but, have you seen the family recently? Allison's in LA, Diego's fighting crime in dark alleyways and Klaus spends most of his time on the brink of death! And now you're going to the  _ fucking moon? _ ” Vanya doesn't mention herself, she was never part of the Academy. She doesn't even know why she’s bringing this sort of stuff up, but… she feels as if she has to. “You're the  _ leader!  _ And now you're leaving! Leaving the fucking planet at that!” 

Luther seems… startled, still holding the handle in his hand like a lifeline, “I-”, but then, it's like he's Daddy’s boy and over again, like they're sixteen and Ben’s just died and apparently it's  _ her  _ fault, anyone but their  _ Father _ , the one who forced them into that situation in the first place. “Dad isn't breaking the family apart! Everyone else left because they could handle the responsibility! I'm a  _ good son.  _ I'm doing as Dad ordered, because that's what I'm meant to do! I am being a leader, Seven! Maybe you just don’t understand that because you're not  _ special _ like us! You don't understand because you've never been on a mission and- and you're jealous of me!” 

Vanya laughs, something low and ugly, “Maybe once upon a time I was jealous of you guys. But now?” She stares up at Luther, ignoring the way his looming figure makes her want to hide, “Now I'm just glad he never  _ fucked me up,  _ as badly as the rest of you, Number One”. 

She spits his number like a curse word, running past him to head straight to Reginald’s office, yanking open the sliding door. 

“ _ Dad,”  _ Vanya spits, knowing how much he hates being called that, only tolerating it for Luther, slamming her hands down her desk, where he was writing in the  _ fucking journal, still?  _ “Why are you sending Luther to the moon? We both know that Luther should stay here!”

It angers her more than it should, more than it used to that Reginald doesn’t react to her actions, only sighing and glancing up at her, returning back to his writing, “Number Seven, stop this madness at once. You have no authority on this matter, Number One shall be going to the moon, no matter what trivialities you spew at me”.

“Trivialities?  _ Trivialities?  _ You’re saying that I, advocating for my brother to stay on  _ this planet _ ?” The books to the side of him started rising, shaking dangerously- but Vanya didn’t notice, Reginald did. 

“Number Seven, have you taken your medication this evening?” He asks, finally looking up at ther, eyes glinting coldly. 

“What do my pills have anything to do with this-” 

“Pogo!” Reginald calls out, and Vanya has no clue where he comes from, but suddenly he’s behind her, there’s a jab in her neck and it all goes black. 

* * *

Vanya wakes up in a haze. She lives in a haze, carrying out her everyday duties and classes in a haze. 

Luther goes to the moon and Vanya doesn’t  _ care.  _

_ She doesn’t care about anything.  _

* * *

Luther is gone four years. 

The others find out two months after he left. 

( _ “Where is dear Number One anyway?” Klaus says, glancing around the kitchen as if he might pop out, “I've missed his disapproving scowl whenever I step foot on the premises”.  _

_ He hasn't come around for a while, Reginald has only just left the premises. The two months is the longest time he’s spent at the Academy for many years. _

_ “The moon”, Vanya says flatly, staring down at the cup of tea she doesn't really remember making, letting the steam warm her face.  _

_ “What?” Klaus lifts Vanya’s head to stare into her eyes, judging what she just said, he seems kind of serious, but for the life of her, Vanya can't reason why that seems strange, “You’re serious.” _

_ “Of course I am, Reginald sent him away for…” she pauses, not wondering why that memory seems so fuzzy, “for something”. _

_ “What? Vannie? Are you okay?” She's sure he should be more pressed on Luther going to the moon, rather than focusing on her.  _

_ “Of course I am,” the reply seems like sand in her mouth, “Why do you ask?” _ ) 

(“We have to tell the others!” Klaus urges after spending a moment with his head cocked to the side, as if listening to someone else, “ _ You _ have to tell them, they won't believe  _ me”.  _

“Why?” And she can't quite tell what part she’s questioning.)

(Dear Diego/Allison,

Luther has been sent to the moon by Reginald. He has been gone two months. He has no way of contacting us. 

Best regards,

Vanya Hargreeves)

It's a strange sort of blur that happens all too quickly and still too slowly and some revelations and bonding happens, and Vanya snaps out of her numbness about two years in, gasping indignation at the slow realisation that Luther is  _ gone _ , and she is  _ alone  _ in the manor. 

( _ God, it's lonely. She sticks to the same routine she's had since she was four. She takes her pills. Goes to class. Plays the violin. Spends her spare time sitting on her bed. Playing the violin. Take her pills. Take her pills. Take her pills.) _

_ (Is there anything more than this?) (Does she care if there is?)  _

(Is it fair to say that she never left if she was never truly there to begin with.)

Then Reginald dies. 

* * *

The gunshot is loud. It echoes throughout the house, making Vanya sit up straight in bed, jerking awake. 

She used to hear gunshots when the house was full- training to avoid them and how to fire them, her fingers fumble for a pill immediately, dry swallowing and scrambling out of bed. She knows the last thing she should do is run  _ towards  _ the gunshot, but she can't exactly stay in bed like a sitting duck. So she opens her door quietly, and sprints across the landing with practised silent footsteps, she knows it came from the section of the house where Reginald’s bedroom was, and she knows she's correct when a second gunshot rings out, making her flinch. 

She opens the door in time to see a flash of blue light swallow a human figure, leaving the bedroom in complete darkness. Vanya fumbles for the light switch, hearing the uneven thumping that means Pogo is  _ running  _ towards them, and she finally finds it (who the hell puts the switch so far away from the door?) he’s beside her, and the whole bloody scene is revealed. 

Reginald is splayed horizontally across the bed, limp against the sheets like a ragdoll, his cane curled loosely in one hand. He’s on top of the sheets too, showing obviously that he tried to fight back- there’s blood on the silver knob of the cane. But there's matching holes in his forehead and chest, blood slowly seeping out and staining the once pristine bed covers.

Vanya chokes, feeling bile rise up in her throat, hand covering her mouth as she feels the urge for another pill,  _ something  _ to stop whatever this  _ feeling  _ was. 

Reginald Hargreeves was  _ dead,  _ no one could survive any of that, not when there’s bits of brain scattered across the other wall and sprays of blood, not when his eyes are staring  _ blankly  _ at the ceiling, so devoid of emotion he could be alive. 

Reginald Hargreeves is dead and Vanya can't decide if she should be happy or not. 

She vomits. 

* * *

She dials the number with shaking fingers, twisting the dial around with a number she memorised when he first moved out, (she memorised everyone's numbers, never mind the fact she never used them for the first decade), and waits for the beep that means someone picked up.

“Hel-”, Diego says, voice raspy with sleep- oh, it's 3am

“Dad’s dead”, Vanya chokes out, interrupting his greeting.

There's a long pause in which she thinks he’ll hang up, but then he speaks again, sounding a lot more awake, “I’ll be right over”.

She rings Klaus too, waiting for the click before speaking out in a rush, “Dad’s dead”.

“...Seriously?” Klaus asks, sounds hesitant. 

She nods slightly, before remembering he can't see her, “Yeah, shot by someone.”

There's a shout of excitement on the other side, a rushed one sided conversation that doesn't really make sense before, “I’ll be right over, sweet,  _ sweet _ Vannie! Tonight's a cause for celebration!” 

She doesn't bother to correct him that it's  _ very  _ early in the morning, just lets him end the call and moves into the living room. Sitting down heavily, she rests her elbows on her knees, placing her head on her hands, facing the ground, letting her hair dangle. She hadn't let Grace cut it in a while, leaving it to grow longer. 

(She’s learnt that if she focuses on the trivial, the small things, like her hair and how she can practically see the split ends, then maybe the bigger things don’t overwhelm her. Then she won't dissolve into panic- hair, her hair. It's long and thick and she can twist small parts of it and yank it and the pain helps ground her.)

She’s doing that now, winding her hair around her fingers at her scalp, periodically scrunching up her hands and letting the small pain from thinking about his  _ brain scattered in bits and pieces around the room, the spray of blood on the painting, turning the painted water red _ . 

Pulling on hair, digging nails into the scalp. 

_ Blood staining the covers, cane decorated in red, red, red, red. _

“Vannie!”

“Vanya.”

Great, Klaus and Diego are here and suddenly she regrets calling them because Diego's been even worse since he got kicked out of the Police Academy, and she knows he’ll be on a one track mind mode (she also knows he’ll be happy that Reginald is dead, but he won't show it yet), concerning the  _ murder (oh god dad was murdered there was a murderer in the house and Vanya ran towards the sound) _ . Klaus will be Klaus, jarring and chaotic even when he doesn't want to be, a stark contrast to Diego in which he’ll be celebrating  _ loudly _ , and Vanya just can't decide who she should follow. 

They both come to stand before her, Diego looking very disgruntled in what must have been the hastily put on leather suit, Klaus in leather trousers he’s probably been in a week.

Diego reaches forward, awkwardly patting her shoulder as she looks up at them through her hair, “Uhm, where is his body?” 

_ Body.  _ Even while ‘comforting’ her, he's only focused on the mission. 

“He’s in his bedroom. I left Pogo in there, he may be trying to cover it up, so I'd hurry,” Vanya sounds so neutral, when did she get so calm about it? When her tongue feels too thick in her mouth and when she closes her eyes all she can see is the bullethole in his forehead that all the siblings wished for so many times. She wonders if Diego will catch out on her lie, that inside she's feeling so  _ chaotic _ , she just doesn't know how to feel.

But her vigilante brother just nods and walks away up the stairs- he's holding a duffle bag, and she can see the tail end of trousers hanging out from the side where he stuffed them in. Apparently Diego's staying here for a while. 

She turns towards Klaus. He's grinning, and he holds up a plastic bag dangerously close to breaking and smashing the cheap bottles of vodka she can see.

He collapses beside her when she doesn't say anything, the clinking of the bottles grating on her nerves, his long limbs splay out, and his arm somehow wraps around her shoulders, bringing her comfort she didn't know she needed. 

One hand drops into her lap, turning her head so it's still supported by the other hand while staring at Klaus, “Klaus”, she whispers, “what are we meant to do now?” 

If Reginald is dead, does she need to stay here? Does she still follow her routine? Did she do all that because she wanted to or because  _ Dad _ , forced her. 

“We, my lovely angel,” he pressed a kiss to her hairline, and she wonders distantly if this is the best news he's ever gotten, (ding dong the bastard’s dead!), “we, are gonna shit faced”. 

(This is an important decision, she knows. Is she going to follow Diego and explain? Get begrudging comfort, and offer the same back? Or drink so much with Klaus she throws up and pretends that it didn't happen?) 

(It's an easy decision.) 

“Pass me a bottle”.

* * *

A week later she's lying in bed staring numbly at the ceiling, she woke up at 6am as usual but, there's no longer a routine to follow. Sure, when Reginald would leave on longer trips they would have a skewed schedule, but it was always with the knowledge that things would come back to normal. But now… now there was the daunting knowledge that Reginald was never to return. 

She’s still thinking about it an hour later, she's gotten up and washed, dressed in jeans and a baggy flannel shirt, brushing her wet hair. The purpose of the motion was lost about 15 minutes ago, but the steady motion soothes her, and she no longer has classes (which she learnt are close to university level, according to Diego), so now doesn't know what to do. 

Then, a sound. Footsteps, she would be worried, (no one comes down the hallway, and Klaus isn't coming back until the funeral) if for the fact that she recognised the heavy gait of… Luther?

Vanya tosses the hairbrush to one side, yanking open the door to see Luther open his.

“Luther!” She calls out, voice cracking, (the last time she saw Luther, she was sure she was angry, no. More than that, absolutely furious, she's pretty sure she insulted him, but she can't… remember the details, but remembers the feeling. It's more than she's ever felt before).

“Vanya?” He turns to face her, face transforming into a smile, he's got a full beard, sticking out everywhere, and she's almost forgotten the way he  _ looked _ now, big and hulking and he still doesn't seem comfortable in his body; shoulders hunched and hand clenching at the doorknob. He doesn't seem prepared for the way Vanya runs into his arms, her own wrapping around him, barely making it around his ribs, while his enclose her with uncertainty. 

(It only sort of breaks her heart when he asks if Allison has arrived yet. As if she hadn't been by his side at the Academy for  _ years _ , being a good sibling, being a good  _ friend _ . 

He doesn't object to her apology when she says it, but his face tightens in annoyance when she says she can't remember what actually happened- apologises for not being at the launch.)

It's later, much later that they're sat down at the dinner table, Luther, Diego and Vanya, sitting in the same seats they had when they were children. It feels strange to break the tradition even now.

“So, what was it like on the moon?” There’s a note of mocking in his voice, and Luther immediately narrows his eyes and Vanya can only think that some things never change. 

He doesn't answer but instead scratches at his face- the awful beard is gone and he's trimmed his hair, “Found any leads on dad?” For some reason he's eyeing Vanya, but she pretends she doesn't notice. 

Diego sobers instantly, “There were no signs of entry anywhere in the house, it's like they just… appeared and disappeared. Whoever they are, they're professionals”. 

Vanya doesn't tell anyone of the bright blue flash she saw, the swirling portal that the person stepped through. It seemed so familiar, (like Five when he teleported her mind urges, but Vanya ignores it. Five has been missin- dead,  _ dead,  _ for a long time. There’s no  _ possibility _ of him being involved).

Instead, she stays quiet throughout dinner, barely stomaching the steak pie that Mom made them, and after dinner, escapes to her room, starts rereading Pride and Prejudice, the part when Lizzy sees Mr Darcy’s manor for the first time, pretend she’s there and not about to watch her family come together for the first time in years and that she isn’t withholding vital information on their father’s murder investigation. 

* * *

Allison arrives in a quieter fashion that Vaya didn’t think she was capable of, but she’s not even wearing black, (Vanya pretends she isn’t impressed by it, not wearing black to your own father’s funeral. 

Klaus doesn’t so much enter as somehow appear passed out on the floor of her bedroom the day of the funeral wearing different leather pants and a lacy top, snoring softly, and when Vanya nudges him with her foot, he jerks awake, instinctively clutching at an expensive bottle of bourbon she’s not sure she wants to know where he got it from. She stands over him, eyebrow arched as he slowly gets up, wobbling and waving his hands in a random direction- probably a ghost of somesort, or Klaus just being Klaus.

“Ohh, hey Van-e-ya”, Klaus slurs, drawing out the syllables, “I’m planning on raiding Allison’s bedroom one last time before she gets here. Care to join?”

Vanya just shakes her head, reaching for her pill bottle and taking one dry, “I’m gonna go if mom needs any help around the house”. 

Both of them knew that Mom never needed any help, but Vanya took comfort in the routine and Mom wouldn’t talk unnecessarily. 

She gets ready and walks downstairs, the urn on the bar making her pause, eyes clenched closed for a second before carrying on. It was the portrait of Five that almost made her breakdown. A somber expression still on his face, staring down at them eternally, much like he tried to do when he was alive. 

(“May this day be used as a warning as to what happens when you disobey me. Number Five is lost because of his insolence and arrogance, I recommend you do not get lost to your own faults”)

She stares at the portrait, wondering what he would be like, how he would react to Reginald’s death, “He would hate that he died so soon”, she mumbled out loud.

“I believe Master Five would be one of your siblings delighted to find your Father dead, Vanya”, Pogo’s voice says from beside her, and she jumps slightly, though it does make her happy to hear him using her actual name, “Master Hargreeves was a difficult man to get along with. You know, he always believed Five was still out there”.

That's an understatement.

She shook her head, “No, dad was right, Five was arrogant and it got him… missing. He'd be annoyed that Dad died so soon,” she snorted slightly, “If he could come back at any point, he hasn't yet, which means he can't prove to him that he could. You know Five made it his mission to do everything he could through spite.”

“You haven't given hope that he’ll come back?” Pogo stated in the form of a question, mold curiosity colouring his voice.

She stared a moment longer at the painting before turning away to face Pogo, “Of course I have, it's been sixteen years! It's pretty hard to keep up hopes like that, those sandwiches weren’t going to bring him back, that's for certain”. 

Pogo lifted a hand to clasp her arm, eyes crinkling in something akin to fondness (it always struck her as odd that she was able to recognise emotions from Pogo, a modified ape, better than her own siblings when she was younger), “I think those sandwiches had a better chance than anything else, Vanya, no one else seemed to like those peanut butter and marshmallow monstrosities but him”.

“I don't even know how  _ he  _ liked them,” Vanya muttered, thinking back to when she would periodically make the sandwich, lathering on the peanut butter thickly like he would like, scattering on the mini marshmallows and cutting it into triangles. She had tried one once, by Five’s command, but she had just wrinkled her nose at the sugar overload. 

“Master Five was an eccentric child, and it infuriated Master Hargreeves more than he let on,” Pogo let on, as if a big secret: everyone knew how much Reginald actually hated them, well, they all found out eventually, Vanya learnt it when she was younger. 

(You are  _ useless _ , just  _ ordinary _ ,  _ why do you even exist _ .) 

Vanya smiles bitterly, “I’d better go see if Grace wants any help, excuse me”. She walked quickly out of the living room, and started to help Grace cook lunch, pretending that this was just a normal day. 

* * *

The day is awful, the funeral is awful. And not awful as in emotions running high, but as in the most poorly planned out funeral there ever could be. It's not really a funeral- that happened a few days ago. This is the scattering of the ashes, it feels... more official.

In the morning Luther accuses one of  _ them _ of organising the hit on their Father.

Only half of them are wearing clothes appropriate for the funeral, (though Vanya appreciates Klaus’s stolen skirt and luminous umbrella), the day is wet and grey and the ashes more out in a little pile more like sand. 

There's a lovely heartfelt speech pronounced by Pogo, which Diego interrupts with an even more heartfelt speech, proclaiming their father to be a monster. It's true.

Then Luther and Diego start wrestling in the clearing for some inane reason that Vanya ignores, and knocks over Ben’s statue. 

_ Jesus Christ _ . 

But the most awful, confusing thing that happened was what happened before the scattering of the ashes happened.

The portal again. 

A blue swirling portal just like the one she saw in Reginald’s room the night he died- he was killed. 

Klaus hurls a fire extinguisher at it, and it disappears, fading into a twisted glitching landscape that is barely decipherable.

And who comes through it? Of all the people Vanya would have guessed to appear de aged through a portal on the day they scatter their father’s ashes… he would have been in her Top Three, if she was honest but still. 

None other than Number Five, still looking thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN THIS WAS MEANT TO BE A ONESHOT, then it turned into a twoshot and I STILL havn't got to the PROPER plot yet pLEASE dont kill me, there will be one (OR TWO) more chpaters achhhh  
> I My main love is just writing the sibling interactions i swear. I actually wrote 1.5k of what actually happens when Vanya discovers Luther's change and tries to look after him, but it didn't fit into the rest of the fic sigh  
> Also uhhhhhhh,,, if i did a side series of a couple of stories about what happen in those four years... would anyone want to read them?

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be a oneshot but it ended up with no plots ahhhh  
> the next part should be up soon!


End file.
